


That Night At The Club

by eldee



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: F/F, M/M, Modern AU, merlin_holidays 2010
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-07
Updated: 2011-01-07
Packaged: 2017-10-14 12:42:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/149342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eldee/pseuds/eldee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>They will say, long past Morgana's birthday, that it was that night at the club when things really started to happen between Arthur and Merlin. Naturally, Morgana and Gwen like to take credit, but so does Val, despite Arthur and Merlin's protests that they would've figured it out themselves. Eventually.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	That Night At The Club

**Author's Note:**

  * For [okydoky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/okydoky/gifts).



> Thanks to for the support, and to for the beta. This was written for [okydoky](http://okydoky.livejournal.com/profile) for the [Merlin Holidays](http://community.livejournal.com/merlin_holidays/profile) 2010 gift exchange. Thank you to [fuzzytomato02](http://fuzzytomato02.livejournal.com/profile) for the support, and to tweezle for the beta.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** The characters depicted herein belong to Shine and BBC. I make no profit from this endeavor.

_They will say, long past Morgana's birthday, that it was that night at the club when things really started to happen between Arthur and Merlin._

 _That isn't quite true -- things had been building for some time, for as long as the two young men had known each other -- and they all know that._

 _Naturally, Morgana and Gwen like to take credit, but so does Val, despite Arthur and Merlin's protests that they would've figured it out themselves. Eventually._

 

***

 

"Oh, bollocks," Merlin sighs out loud as he rushes down the street. The woman standing outside the shop looking into the window turns to glare at him as he passes by. "Oh, no, not you," he says apologetically, turning around to look at her but still back peddling down the pavement. He's late, very very late, and there isn't time to stop and offer more than a, "Sorry!"

He turns forward again -- and walks right into a rather large, burly man with a very hard chest.

"Oi, watch yourself, Emrys."

Merlin glances up into a glare that perfectly matched that of the woman at the window. And, really, what has he done that day -- other than try desperately to get to where he needs to be -- to deserve those hard looks? "Oh, hello. Um..." Merlin knows he's met this man a handful of times before but sometimes evenings at the pub get a bit fuzzy, and -- he's a mate of Arthur's from rugby. "Val! Right. Hello, Val."

Val is a big and somewhat intimidating looking man. His hair is cropped close to the head, and he rarely ever smiles -- unless it's with his mates, or when directed at a pretty lady, but then it's barely a quirk of the lips. It is rather amusing every time he gave Morgana that little smile he thought of as so sexy sly. Val's hands often curl into what looks like large hams and his body is as thick as a tree trunk, and he towers over Merlin.

Val looks him up and down -- Merlin is in his work uniform, ugly polyester brown with white and orange stripes down the sleeves and legs, with grease stains splattered across the front -- and his lip curls ever so slightly. Merlin has always had the impression that Val didn't think much of him.

Despite all that, Merlin pulls his shoulders back and stands up straight, rather than slouching over, and meets Val's gaze.

Val says, voice unusually soft for a man his size, "You look a bit in a rush today. Running late?"

Merlin doesn't have time for this today. He _is_ in a rush and he _is_ running late, and he's not in the mood to swallow being looked down upon.

"Yes, yes, so if you would just excuse me?"

Merlin almost thinks there's going to be trouble with this. Val has always seemed rather uninterested in him, but with Arthur not around, maybe he'd be a jerk to Merlin.

Val steps out of the way.

Merlin blinks. He's so surprised he almost doesn't move, as if he were rooted to the spot. But Val brushes past him, and throws over his shoulder, "Say hello to Arthur for me. Perhaps I'll see you tonight."

"Oh, yes, will do!" Merlin says, and he's rushing forward again.

Merlin finally makes it to the block of flats that Gwen lives at. Merlin is a bit envious of her, that she’s been able to rent out a little place of her own, but if Merlin had a steady, beautiful girlfriend like Morgana, he would have done all he could to get one for himself too, to have private space without worrying about flatmates or hushed sex in shared dorms.

Well. Change that to _handsome_ and _boyfriend_ and perhaps Merlin can relate a bit better.

Instead, he has a roommate called Will, a tiny flat that always has the mild smell of mold (no matter how many times Merlin's mother visited and attacked it with cleaning product and scolded them for being typical uni students, even though they told her repeatedly they did all right!), and Merlin certainly didn't have a handsome boyfriend.

But Merlin isn't jealous, he really isn't. He likes Gwen a lot; they had met in a first year uni class on the very first day and they became fast friends. Along with being her friend came getting to know Morgana, Gwen's girlfriend who is a couple years older than them. And, because of Morgana, Merlin got to know Arthur, who is Morgana's half-brother, and is Gwen and Merlin's age and in their year. And Merlin is glad for it; them, plus Will, has made the chaotic move and new life in London and starting uni bearable for the past year.

Still. Having someone might be nice, a little bit. But, on the other hand, Merlin is very busy juggling work and school and friends, so he tries to not let it get to him. He is quite content with his life. For the most part.

All right, so there is a certain blond prat he thinks of far too much, but Arthur is a friend and Merlin doesn't want to jeapordise that. Besides, Arthur doesn't think of Merlin like that, so friends it is.

As he approaches the front of Gwen's block of flats, Merlin sets those thoughts, as he always does when he needs to. There's a little metal speaker box with two columns of neatly lined buttons with chicken scratched names on various colours of paper slid into holders beside each flat number. He doesn't even need to look to find the right one for Gwen's, he's been there so often. He presses the right flat number, and gives a small prayer that it would be her, or Morgana, that answers.

There's a little crackle as a voice burst through the speaker. "Late, aren't we?"

Merlin sighs and wants to bang his head against the brick of the building. He says grumpily, "Let me in, Arthur."

There is a pause and the voice says, "I don't know if I should allow that. Late for your own friend's--"

Merlin presses the button again, the buzzing of it cutting Arthur off. Merlin snaps, "Just let me in!"

There isn't any other noise out of the speaker but in his head Merlin can hear Arthur's prattish chuckle. Of course it was him that answers and of _course_ he'll be at Merlin for being late all night long.

The front door itself buzzes, indicating it's unlocked briefly, and Merlin pulls it open. He grumbles to himself the entire way up the three flights of stairs.

The flat is unlocked, which isn't surprising for when he's expected. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" he says as he enters, closing the door behind him and flicking over the deadbolt. He toes off his shoes and drops the rucksack off his back. It lands with a light thud on the floor behind him.

Gwen pokes her head around the corner. He imagines he looks quite ridiculous; shoulders drooped down, arms hanging limply at his side, an apologetic frown on his face, bag dropped pathetically at his feet.

All right, all right, he's trying to play up the cute angle. It's worked before.

She shakes her head at him, grinning a little. "Oh, come in, you silly boy."

He smiles and knows it's worked again.

He stoops down and picks up his rucksack, slinging it over one shoulder again. He presses a quick kiss to Gwen's cheek, and then gives her the once over.

"Now, then, don't you look lovely!" Merlin says with a smile.

Most of the time, he sees her at school, in comfortable clothes and her hair pulled back, not a spot of makeup on -- the life of a uni student, she grumbles every Monday morning as they drink their cups of tea as they wait for the instructor to arrive for their eight o'clock class. And, if they're meeting for a night at the pub, but not going directly after school, she'll dress up a bit but it's usually in nice jeans and a dressier top.

Tonight Gwen looks different. Her hair is loose and the curls cascade past her shoulders. She's wearing -- for as much as Merlin can say about these sorts of thing -- a cute and little bit fancy yellow dress that flares out down to her knees, with a green sashy belt thing around the waist.

"Perfectly lovely!" he repeats.

Gwen smiles sweetly at him. "Thank you, Merlin, that's kind of you. You look--" She takes a moment to pause and frowns as she looks at him.

Merlin can admit that, at that particular moment, he looks a bit a mess, being in his greased-stained, ugly work uniform.

From behind, a voice says, "Positively despicable."

Merlin sighs and turns around. Of course Arthur is standing there. And of course he looks entirely put together and absolutely _delicious_. Black slim trousers that hug him perfectly right where they need to and a dark grey dress shirt with the top two buttons undone, with just a hint of light chest hair showing.

Merlin is a little bit annoyed and a little bit turned on. All right, more than a little bit. On both counts.

"I was at work. _Obviously_ ," Merlin says to him dryly.

Rather then insult him back, Arthur frowns, possibly with a bit of concern. (Not that Merlin is trying to read into it or anything like that.) "You weren't supposed to be working today, you have that paper to write--"

Merlin waves his hand, cutting him off. "Yes, well, they called and I could use the hours so I went in."

"That's stupid," Arthur says. "They always keep you late, you have revision to do, you could've missed Morgana's--"

"Yes, _Mum_ ," Merlin says, rolling his eyes.

Arthur's nose crinkles and he pulls a face. " _Never_ say that to me again. God, what the hell, Merlin? I'm not your--"

"Morgana!" Merlin greets cheerfully as the birthday girl walks out of the bedroom. He gives a low wolf whistle. "Look at you!"

Morgana's smile is smooth and graceful, much like the rest of her. She's always a vision, dressed to the nines even when in her casual clothes, skin flawless, hair perfect, face done up. Tonight, she's in a strapless slinky purple number that stops a couple inches above the knees but with a slit up the side that goes rather high. Her make up is more dramatic than usual, and her hair is straightened rather than falling in loose curls. And Merlin is quite certain those strappy shoes she has on could be a very dangerous weapon, but they make her legs look long and lean.

"Thank you," she says, brushing past her half-brother to greet Merlin. Placing a well-manicured hand onto his arm, she lightly brushes a kiss to his cheek, barely a press and hopefully not leaving any of her dark red lipstick behind.

He rubs his skin anyway, just in case. She chuckles before moving to stand next to Gwen, sliding an arm around her girlfriend's waist.

Merlin starts to say, "I'm sorry I'm late!" just as Morgana says, "You're on time tonight, Merlin."

Merlin pauses and blinks at her untrue statement. Morgana arches an eyebrow and tells him, "You're not late."

"But, Arthur said to be here at--" Merlin trails off and turns to scowl at Arthur.

Arthur smirks and shrugs. "Is this when I'm supposed to give the Pathetic Merlin look?" He leans a bit to peek around Merlin and addresses Gwen, "I'm assuming he gave it to you when he walked through the door, yes?"

Gwen is nice and doesn't answer. But she does bite her lip as if she's trying to keep in the answer, and Merlin tries to give a put out pout. Only that it turns a bit into a grin that he's trying to hold in because, quite frankly, his friends know him too well.

Arthur ignores their looks and continues, "I told you to be here an hour ago because I knew you would be late so, look at that, you're right on time. Almost."

"Perfectly on time, thank you very much!" Merlin protests.

"Oh, how we change our tune," Arthur mutters under his breath. More arrogantly, " _I_ was on time. Early, even."

"You only just arrived ten minutes ago, Arthur," Morgana says, shaking her head. Merlin suspects it's at the bickering, which she used to make snide remarks about. Though that had ceased after the Big Row Merlin and Arthur had last spring, in which they barely spoke for three weeks, and once they made up Morgana declared all was right with the world if the two of them were snipping at each other like old ladies with cats.

That comment alone had united the two of them against her but Morgana was tough and could take it as well as dish it out. Merlin felt that had strengthened his and Arthur's friendship, really.

"Though your plan was quite genius to get him here on time," Gwen says to Arthur.

Arthur looks too smug for his own good and Merlin gives him an exaggerated scowl.

"Very mature there, Merlin," Arthur says. "I'm surprised you're not sticking your tongue out."

Merlin is about to retort when Morgana says slyly, "Play time can be later, boys."

Both of them blink at her, and Arthur stutters, "Wha--what's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Not your usual articulate self?" she asks coyly. Ignoring Arthur's outraged look, Morgana turns to Merlin. She tilts her head to the side and assesses him. She waves a finger through the air, up and down, gesturing to his outfit. "I don't know if this is going to fit into dress code for the restaurant." Morgana had arranged reservations for the four of them at her favourite posh restaurant for dinner before meeting the rest of her friends at the club for the remainder of the night.

"Are you sure? I think I'm rather dashing," Merlin answers playfully. Arthur snorts, Morgana's barely blinks, and Gwen gives him a look of pity. He mutters, "Such supportive friends." He swings his rucksack around so it rests on his belly and he pats it. "I have a change of clothes. Give me a minute and I'll be ready to go."

"Oh, Merlin," Gwen says, stepping forward and taking the bag from him.

Merlin asks, confused, "What?"

She opens it and pulls out the shirt that, admittedly, he balled up and shoved in there last minute when he was unexpectedly called into work. She holds it up and, well yes, it is rather wrinkled. Gwen says, "I'll iron it. Won't take but a couple minutes."

"There's still that other problem," Arthur points out.

"What's that?" Merlin asks, already on the defensive.

"You smell like fried pork."

"I had to work!"

"You had the day off! You were supposed to be--"

"-- oh well, _excuse me_ for not being born with a silver spoon up my arse!"

" _Boys_ ," Morgana says, stepping between them with hands up in the air.

Merlin sighs and instantly feels guilty. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean--"

Gwen is the one who cuts in here. "It's fine," she says, a hand on his arm as she holds up his wrinkled shirt in the other. She was always a bit more sympathetic to his situation; he imagines it is difficult for her sometimes too, more so perhaps, with having Morgana being the financially stable one in the relationship. Merlin and Arthur are only friends, of a sort, and it's difficult enough.

As usual, Gwen is the buffer between the other three. She instructs, voice neutral, "Why don't you have a quick shower while I fix this up? No problem at all."

"Oh, great," Arthur says sarcastically. "Now he'll smell like girl."

Merlin throws his hands up in the air. "There's just no pleasing you!"

Although, and Merlin is not going to admit this to Arthur at that moment at all, Merlin has had to use the shower there before, after nights out when he then had to crash on Gwen's sofa. He's been rather disgruntled when coming out of the loo smelling like a flower or a citrus fruit.

"It's quite all right, Merlin," Gwen says with a bemused grin. "We've bought some _manly_ toiletries, just for you, for occasions like this."

Merlin beams a smile at her.

Arthur snorts. "What do you two know about men's toiletries?"

"We're not idiots, Arthur," Morgana says with a roll of her eyes. With a sly smile, she adds, "Besides, I got your favourite and you do have _impeccable_ taste."

"Oh, great, now he'll smell like _me_."

Merlin opens his mouth but snaps it shut right quick, biting his lower lip. There's a dirty joke in there, he knows it (and even if he doesn't say it, he sure thinks it -- if he were ever to smell like Arthur, he'd much rather prefer it to be because of reasons other than soap) but saying so will just stroke Arthur's ego and he'd never hear the end of it. Glancing at Gwen, he know she gets it too and she's trying to hide a smile.

Morgana doesn't even try to hide the smile, just smirks between the two of them, and Merlin swears there's a bit of pink coming to Arthur's cheeks, but neither of them says anything. Instead Morgana says smoothly, "No, not your brand, but the one you say you like on other men?" She waves a hand around. "You told me once you love it when--"

" _Enough_ ," Arthur snaps at her. He points a finger. "You're horrible."

Merlin smirks at Arthur as he starts to walk backwards towards the bathroom. "So, is my smell going to turn you on?"

Arthur grits his teeth. "Shut up, Merlin."

" _All night_?" Merlin adds playfully. "I'm going to be irresistible, aren't I?"

"Oh, go and bloody _shower_ already," Arthur growls, throwing his hands up in the air. "You really will make us late."

"Okay, okay," Merlin says, though he doesn't stop smirking. Ducking into the loo, he hears Arthur grumbling at Morgana, and he can't help but smile when he realises that Arthur didn't bother denying being driven mad by Merlin and his smell. He knows it doesn't really mean anything, but the thought is kind of nice.

But Merlin laughs when he sees that the toiletries the girls bought for him are the ones he himself uses at home.

 

***

 

Dinner goes well, and even if there's a weird tension in the air at first a glass or two of wine settles everyone's nerves. Merlin feels a bit the odd man out, like he doesn't quite belong in such an establishment but everyone, even Arthur, tries to make him feel comfortable. It doesn't take much, really: it's great food and good company, and he's happy to have a relaxing evening with his friends. But they don't linger there too long, Morgana anxious to meet up with her other friends at the club.

Merlin always feels out of place at clubs, too. The music is loud and vibrates through the walls and floors, and it’s a jarring feeling, the _thud thud_ that reverberates through his body. And Merlin isn’t a dancer; his long limbs always feel too awkward and uncoordinated in a crowd of people and he can’t keep them in tune with the beat of the song. It certainly wouldn’t be his first choice when deciding where to go out for an evening, much preferring the comfort of a pub.

But, for Morgana’s birthday, he’s willing to give it a go.

 _Especially_ since they’re in the VIP section of the club. This is an experience of its own, being on the list, having entrance into the back room, where the booze seems to flow freely, and pretty waitresses and handsome waiters are there to wait on hand and foot, making sure everyone’s glass is full and that the birthday guest of honour is happy with the service.

Merlin feels much more at ease being in this part of the club, rather than out with the rest of the patrons. It’s quieter and more intimate. The same music that floods onto the dance floor feeds into the VIP room, but on a softer scale that doesn’t make Merlin’s ears ring. He’s actually able to hold conversations, he doesn’t have to dance if he doesn’t pass back through that little velvet rope, and it doesn’t feel like there are any sort of expectations on him.

At least, not at first there isn’t. He learns all too quickly that’s an illusion he’s holding on to.

He and Gwen huddle in the corner with drinks in long-stemmed glasses in their hands, whispering about what other guests are wearing or making predictions about who is going to end up going home with who. But their conversation is interrupted with a call from Morgana, and naturally Gwen’s head swivels to the direction. Glancing over, they see Morgana sitting on a barstool, her legs crossed and the slit of her dress stretching to reveal her thigh. She's beckoning with long fingers for them to join her up to the bar.

"Best we not keep the birthday girl waiting," Gwen says, grabbing Merlin’s hand and tugging him along. He easily follows, and grins when he sees the scowl on Arthur’s face when Morgana calls to him the same way. The look on his face says it all: I’m Arthur Pendragon and no one beckons to me.

It’s no surprise that Arthur comes anyway, swagger to his gait as he walks through the crowd of people to make his way to Morgana.

"Shots!" Morgana announces as they approach her. Merlin looks past her and sees on the bar there are four sets of two different kinds of shots. His eyes zero in on the little glasses sitting in front, with the slices of lime and salt shaker.

"Oh, no," Merlin says, shaking his head vehemently. "No bloody way."

"What, Merlin?" Morgana asks innocently, though she doesn’t even try to look it. Merlin has become quite certain that she doesn’t even know how to.

Arthur is smirking. "What’s the matter, Merlin? We all know how much you love tequila. Or is that, love to love, after drinking tequila?"

Merlin can't help but frown at Arthur. Looking around the small group, he can tell by the little smirks and sympathetic smiles that they all remember _that_ night. The one where Merlin had had one too many shots of tequila at the pub and while they were stumbling back to Morgana and Arthur’s shared flat, Merlin had declared his love for Arthur. Loudly. To the whole of the street, while twirling in circles in the rain.

And then promptly threw up into a bin beside a small flower shop.

Or so they told him. Merlin had woke up in the morning, curled up in a small ball beside the toilet, and had had absolutely no memory of anything after the sixth shot.

But they teased him for weeks, especially Arthur, who particularly enjoyed bringing it up to torture Merlin, even though Merlin insists it was just the drink talking.

Although, maybe -- well, the love part, that’s being too excessive, Merlin knows, so he denies _anything_ and _everything_. But there is no way he would ever admit to an attraction, not after that. Arthur’s ego would swell up so large that he wouldn’t be able to walk through doorways any more.

Merlin's vowed never drink tequila again. And especially not to drink that much around Arthur ever again. Merlin is happy to report that he’s been able stick to both plans.

Even if Morgana is a harpy who was trying to destroy that.

"No," Merlin says flatly. "No way. I refuse to do this."

Arthur calls him out on it. "It’s her birthday. You have to if she says."

"It’s okay, Merlin," Morgana says with a spot of sympathy.

It might be a bit false but he tries to hold on to feeling a bit hopeful. "So I don’t have to?"

"Oh, no, you do," she says. She points to the other set of shots that sit behind the tequila. "Because we’re also doing those."

"No way," Arthur immediately protests. "No. Absolutely not. I refuse."

Merlin smirks at Arthur. "But it’s her birthday. You have to if she says," he echoes.

Arthur scowls and vehemently shakes his head, crossing his arms over his chest. "No."

"Oh, come now, Arthur," Gwen says, though she does look rather amused, in Merlin’s opinion. "It won’t be too bad."

They are jagerbombs -- shots of jager dropped into a tumbler of Red Bull. One night, Arthur had a few of them with some of his mates after rugby. When he showed up at his flat, Merlin was there watching a film with Morgana and Gwen. And Arthur had been rather -- _handsy_ when he sat next Merlin on the sofa. Awake and restless but rather focused on Merlin, his arm around Merlin’s shoulder, a hand resting on his thigh.

Merlin knew it was just because Arthur had been drinking. Arthur didn't really want him like that, Merlin was just _there_. It was the only explanation Merlin could come up with, as difficult as it was to admit it. But it had been with every bit of strength Merlin could muster that he had resisted the advances; he didn't want to damage their friendship just because they were both horny.

Merlin had tried to fend him off by wrapping himself in a blanket. It hadn’t stopped Arthur’s hand from finding its way under and inching up Merlin’s thigh, and he had been leaning in so close to Merlin that his nose practically nuzzled Merlin's ear. Merlin's breath had hitched and he'd bit his bottom lip; but when Arthur's hand came too close to where Merlin really wanted it, Merlin had jumped up off the sofa.

His feet had caught up in the blanket and he'd tumbled to the floor. Embarrassed, he got himself up, not even looking at Arthur's reaction, and then stumbled out of the flat with lame excuses of revision he'd forgotten about.

Neither of them had mentioned it since, and Merlin knew he was right to not let anything happen, even if it hurt just a little. Or, well, a lot. Their friendship had felt strained, just a little, for a couple weeks but it was all patched up and they were back to bickering with each other. All was right as rain.

But tequila shots and jagerbombs were not going to help their situation. Clearly, from past experience, it would make it worse. Merlin had no clue what Morgana was thinking.

"This isn't a good idea," Merlin points out.

"For once, I completely agree with Merlin," Arthur says.

"As much as an insult as that is, thank you."

Arthur nods seriously. "You're welcome. We'll be stronger if we both stand up to her."

Gwen shakes her head. "You two are being a bit ridiculous, don't you think? It's just a couple drinks."

"Precisely, my love," Morgana says, a hand coming to rest on the small of Gwen's back. "They _are_ being ridiculous. Besides, it's my birthday, I'll have you do what I want. And I want to have a round of shots with the three people I care most about. Why wouldn't you want to do that?"

Merlin says plainly, "Because you're evil, obviously." Morgana only smirks at him.

Merlin cast a side glance at Arthur. His face looked stern, though it was starting to give, just a little, around the edges, softening at her words.

Merlin is not having this. Just because Arthur is known to give in to all of Morgana's whims doesn't mean that he has to.

"Why would you do this to us?" Merlin asks, pointing to the shots. "Drinks, yes. Fine. We'll have plenty of those with you! Why would you pick those ones? Can't you order different ones?"

"He has a point, Morgana," Arthur agrees. "Merlin and I would be much better off if we didn't have those. A compromise! We'll have triple shots with you if you pick something else."

Gwen and Morgana share a glance, secret in the meaning behind it, but they both look rather amused. "Nope," Morgana declines. "It needs to be these ones."

"But why," Merlin whines, not above giving a petulant pout. His hands are firmly shoved into his trouser pockets and he doesn't take a glass. Arthur does not uncross his arms.

"Well, you see, we've done some discussing," Gwen says, waving a hand between her and Morgana. "And, we want -- the two of you need -- it's for the best."

"That makes no sense," Merlin says.

Morgana huffs, clearly annoyed. "Because the two of you are daft idiots," she says, as if explaining to a child. "You are both blind to each other and can't see because of the walls you've built. You both have hidden feelings you refuse to talk about with anyone, especially each other, and you're both miserable--"

Arthur interrupts, "I am not miserable."

"Me neither," Merlin chimes in.

"You could both be happier," Gwen says.

"And so would the rest of us if we don't have to deal with," Morgana waves her hand a round, "your _pining_."

Merlin protests, "There is _no_ pining!"

"None whatsoever," Arthur agrees heartily.

Morgana rolls her eyes. "Yes, there is, and you need to grow up and get over it. And you've both proven the only way of doing this -- albeit, temporarily -- is with liquid courage. We," she says, nodding her head towards Gwen, "think you both need to be on the same page at the same time, so that you can see each other, return to the land of sobriety and be _happy_. It's a brilliant plan and if you two would just do as you're told, it will work."

Arthur says flatly, "You're ridiculous."

Merlin sighs. He doesn't know if Arthur gets this grand scheme of the girls -- or, rather, gets what they _think_ it is. He's not entirely sure he believes it; getting drunk with Arthur on the booze that seems to completely strip them both of their inhibitions regarding each other isn't going to help them move forward with anything, not if Arthur only wants Merlin for a quick shag.

Merlin shakes his head. "I don't think it's right. Getting us -- shots to get us to -- why would you even think this is a good thing? Plus," he adds firmly, determined, "it's not going to work."

"I'll do it," Arthur says.

Merlin looks at him, surprised. "What?"

Arthur looks at him challengingly. "You don't seem to think it'll do anything so let's just drink up with my sister for her birthday, why don't we?"

"Fine," Merlin spats at him. "Brilliant plan."

Gwen bites her lip. "I almost feel like there should be rules."

"For drinking?" Arthur asks, astonished.

"Like, no more drinking, after this," she says. Shrugging, she adds, "So you're both still yourselves. And you'll remember. Because you both tend to get carried away at times and forget everything the next day."

"Oh, good point, my love," Morgana says, beaming at Gwen. "How about two rounds of each shot, then they have to promise no more alcohol until -- well, until they work it out."

Arthur pinches the bridge of his nose, as if he is getting a headache from negotiating a possible bout of liquid courage. Merlin can't blame him because, for all the skirting around the issue at hand, it is probably one of the most ridiculous conversations he's ever been a part of.

And yet, what if ... "Deal."

Arthur glances at Merlin, eyebrows raised. "Really? You love a good night out drinking."

Merlin shrugs. He reaches past Morgana and takes two of the tequila shots, handing one to Arthur. "Well, it _is_ Morgana's birthday and if this is what she wants."

"Fine," Arthur says, not about to back down. "Deal."

"Oh, thank goodness," Gwen says, as Morgana laughs. "You both really are thick and we've been running out of ideas."

Merlin takes a lime wedge between his free forefinger and thumb; his tongue flicks out and pressing flat against the skin between them, dragging over the area and wetting it. Arthur watches him, eying Merlin intently. Merlin turns to Gwen with a smirk and holds out his hand. "Salt me."

Gwen laughs and does, and then everyone else follows suit. When they're all ready, Morgana holds hers up and announces her cheers, "To liquid courage!"

Arthur mutters something about _ridiculous_ but they all clink glasses, lick the salt, take the shot, and suck on their lime wedge.

Merlin shudders and nearly starts gagging. He hasn't had tequila since that ill-fated night and it really doesn't sit well. "Fuck," he breaths, face crinkling up. "That's disgusting."

Arthur slams his glass to the bar top. "Not bad," he says happily.

"You're a wanker," Merlin mutters.

"What's that? You want me to wank you? Morgana, look, your plan is working!"

Merlin can't help it, he barks out laughter. Arthur is smiling at him, amused. "You two are idiots," Morgana says, but hands them their other shot. It's the tumbler of Red Bull with a shot of jager, and Merlin has always had trouble drinking those kinds of drinks, barely avoiding spilling them all over himself. But, after another clink of glasses, he shoots it back with no problem at all. Arthur grimaces, but just a little, probably feeling much the same Merlin does about tequila.

"One more round of each!" Morgana calls out to the bartender.

"Oh, god," Gwen moans, hopping up into the chair next to Morgana. "Why am _I_ doing this?"

"Because it's Morgana's birthday," Arthur and Merlin answer in unison. Gwen laughs, though she leans her elbow on the bar and she props her head up on her hand. Morgana pats her knee lovingly.

"You're a dear for doing this," Morgana says. She eyes up Arthur and Merlin. "And how are you doing?"

"Great," Arthur answers.

"Never better," Merlin says. Though, he starts to feel the shots mingling with the wine and cocktail he had earlier. The top of his legs are becoming tingly and he spreads his stance a little to keep from swaying. He can feel it moving through his body, from the pit of his stomach and rolling out in warm waves.

They all do their second round of shots, and as Arthur slams the tumbler back on the bar, he looks at Merlin. "So, Merlin," he says seriously. "I think this is where we're supposed to declare our love for each other."

Merlin nods. "Yes, I do think so."

"Right." Arthur suddenly beams a smile and hooks his thumb over his shoulder. "I'm going to get back to my mates now. "

Merlin smiles back. "Sounds great. See you later!"

"Cheers," Arthur says. He drops a quick kiss to Morgana's cheek, but then he's swaggering back through the crowd, finding the group of friends he'd left not too long before.

Merlin looks at the girls and shrugs, smiling. "Sorry, ladies, but I think you lose this game."

Neither of them look all that worried about it.

"I give it within the hour," Gwen says, leaning her head against Morgana's shoulder.

Morgana answers, "Half hour, tops."

"I'm thinking not at all," Merlin says lightly.

Morgana looks at him, eyes steely. "Then who would be the loser?" she asks, her voice a lot more serious than it had been at any other time that evening. "Certainly not us."

Merlin is taken back a bit, but before he can say anything else, Morgana's face lights up as a couple of her friends approach, saying hello to her and Gwen. Merlin steps away, letting them crowd around the girls, and he leans up against the bar.

He convinces himself the uneasy feeling in his stomach is just from taking so many shots in such a short time.

A little later, Merlin finds himself in a booth made of dark wood and comfortable cushions covered in soft, deep red material. He’s crowded in the back of the crescent-moon shaped seat, surrounded by young women -- Gwen and a couple other girls that ran with their group of friends from uni. He sits with them, laughing at their gossiping chatter, contributing when he can, especially when checking out the good looking lads, though he brushes off any and all questions about Arthur, much to Gwen’s amusement.

But he refuses to get up when a song comes on that they all just have to dance to. They shuffle out of the booth, leaving him there to shake his head and thank the gods above they haven’t dragged him out onto the dance floor.

He isn’t sure how much longer he’ll be able to hold out on that, but he’s going to try.

He’s just about to get up to find some of his other friends to talk to when there’s a clap on his shoulder that startles him, pushing him back down. Looking up, he sees Arthur leaning over the back of the booth, grinning down at him.

"Where’re you going? To dance?" Arthur asks. He slips around the side of the booth and slides in beside Merlin.

Merlin snorts. "Do you really see me going out there to dance?"

"Not so much," Arthur admits with a full-out laugh.

"Thanks for the confidence," Merlin says with a mock scowl.

"We both know you’re likely to elbow some poor sod in the nose or something else disastrous," Arthur says amicably. Arthur leans back into the cushions, his arm sliding in place to rest across the top of it, over Merlin’s shoulders but not actually touching him.

"I could do good!" Merlin tries to argue, but he’s nearly laughing himself so the debate falls flat when Arthur just raises one eyebrow at him. Merlin shrugs and concedes with a grin, "All right, all right, it’s probably best I just sit right here."

"I think so," Arthur agrees. "Besides, there’s nothing wrong with right here. Well, now that I’m gracing you with my presence, that is."

"Oh, right," Merlin says sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "Because you make everything better."

"Glad you think so," Arthur says smugly, though his lips quirk into a grin.

Merlin huffs and elbows Arthur lightly in the ribs.

"Oi!" Arthur says. His free hand rubs at the spot and he puts on a playfully pained expression. "What did I say about those bony elbows! Dangerous weapons, I tell you!"

"Shut it, you!" Merlin says, but he’s laughing out right. Glancing over at Arthur, he sees Arthur looking at him with a bemused expression.

Merlin can tell that Arthur is just as buzzed as him, the alcohol the girls practically forced them to have putting them at a bit of ease. Merlin feels a bit more free and loose, the odd slight strain that usually crackles in the air between them when they’re alone dulled now and it just feels … _comfortable_.

But that doesn’t mean anything is going to happen, Merlin thinks, even as Arthur slides over a bit more, his thigh pressing against Merlin’s.

Arthur points to the glass in front of Merlin. "You’re not supposed to be drinking," he scolds lightly.

"Club soda," Merlin says, sliding the glass a little between his fingers and the ice clinking against the side of it. Merlin shrugs. "Felt weird not having _something_ to sip on."

"Too true. I should get one," Arthur says.

His gaze leaves Merlin to look around the club, probably for a waitress. Merlin finds it’s as if he’s transfixed and he can’t take his eyes off Arthur’s profile: the long tendons of his neck, the sharp angle of his jaw, the soft glow of his blond hair as the dim lighting hits it.

Merlin breathes, "Shit."

Arthur immediately looks at him. "Hmm?" he says. He must’ve noticed the way Merlin quickly diverted his eyes, because Merlin suddenly hears a soft chuckle. "Were you checking me out?"

"What? No!" Merlin says instantly. He tries to move further away from Arthur, but Arthur’s arm drops from the back of the booth to drape across Merlin’s shoulders, hand clamping down on his arm and holding him in place.

Arthur leans in, the length of his body pressing against Merlin. "I think you were," Arthur says with a smirk on his face. "Looks like the girls were right about you. Are you about to declare your--"

"Oh, shut it! Me?" Merlin asks, astounded at Arthur’s gall. "You’re the one with your hands all over me."

Merlin wasn’t sure what he wanted: Arthur to stay right where he was, or to pull away from him.

But Merlin can’t stop the audible hitch in his voice when Arthur pulls Merlin closer. With the smirk on his face, Merlin knows Arthur is only playing with him, challenging him, seeing what he will do next.

Merlin wants nothing more than to step up to the challenge and wipe that damned look right off Arthur’s face.

Merlin takes in a deep, calming breath and murmurs, "Oh, sod it." He leans forward, closes his eyes, and presses his lips against Arthur’s.

It’s like Arthur freezes on the spot; with his arm still around Merlin’s shoulder, Merlin can feel Arthur tense up. There’s a strangled, confused noise that comes from the back of his throat, as if he’s in disbelief that Merlin had the courage to do this.

It only urges Merlin on. He tilts his head, slanting his lips to fit better over Arthur’s, and it’s then that Arthur relaxes, his lips moving slightly against Merlin’s. It’s a light, gentle and almost chaste kiss, but it sends sparks throughout Merlin’s entire body.

And when he pulls away, he feels breathless and lightheaded, and he tries to attribute it to the stupid shots he took earlier rather than the kiss itself, because Merlin isn’t sure he should read too much into it.

Arthur looks at him, face schooled blank, though Merlin can hear the breaths he takes in through slightly parted lips.

Merlin glances up at the clock that hangs over the bar at the side of the room. Merlin smiles, "Morgana wins."

Arthur’s head pulls back a little bit. "What?" He looks a little dazed and Merlin’s going to blame that on the booze too. It’s … it’s just the only way he’s going to get through this.

"Nothing," Merlin says. Suddenly, his lips feel dry and in an attempt to ease that discomfort, he licks his lips.

Arthur’s eyes zero in on his mouth and he licks his own lips. It’s Arthur’s turn to say, his voice sounding hoarse, "Shit." And he catches Merlin off guard, pressing his lips back against Merlin’s. It feels needier this time, a little more heady as Arthur sucks Merlin’s bottom lip in between his own, causing Merlin to gasp.

They pull apart just as quick as last time, as if they’re both wanting this but still too cautious and unsure. Their faces are close and Merlin gives a shaky grin. "Are we really doing this?"

Arthur smirks. "Seems so. Morgana will never let us live it down, though."

Merlin huffs a chuckle. "God, never. But, tonight, this. And tomorrow --" Merlin shrugs. "We’re back to us, yeah? And we’ll tell her to leave it be from now on."

Arthur frowns and pulls away a little more. "What’s that mean?"

"This. Snogging. Or, you know. Whatever happens," Merlin adds, a bit of a blush creeping to his cheeks.

Now that the dam was broken, he could feel it all welling up in the pit stomach, and he didn’t think he’d be able to go on without giving in to what Arthur wants, at least. It’s too late but they might be able to go back to normal, if they just took it as a one-off thing.

Well. Merlin is going to cling on to that thought and make it happen. He doesn’t want to lose his friend

Arthur raises his eyebrow. "And tomorrow?"

"Look, Arthur, I know I’m -- that you only want -- even if I -- but it’s okay. I’m fine with it. Really." Well, not really, but he'll make it so. Merlin feels a bit at a loss for words. He'd much rather go back to the kissing part. That’s easy, for now.

Arthur pulls away from him and a rush of cold air fills the space where the heat of his body had been. Merlin shivers at that -- or, perhaps, the disappointed frown on Arthur’s face.

"Fine with what?" he asks, frowning.

"You know. I know I’d only be a quick shag." He waves his hand around absently. "But then that whole sexual tension thing the girls think we have will be over and we can just move on, yeah? Be friends."

Arthur begins to look angry and Merlin has no idea why. "You think -- you really think that’s what I think?"

Merlin blinks. "Well -- yes."

"Good to know you think so highly of me," Arthur says, and Merlin is confused by the hurt look on his face. Arthur begins to slide out of the booth and Merlin’s hand scrabbles at his arm, trying to get a grip on his shirt to hold him in place.

It’s not Merlin who stops Arthur, but they’re both startled when a big hand lands on each of their shoulders. They both look up and see none other than Val leaning over the back of the booth, holding them both in place.

"Boys!" Val greets, more enthusiastic than Merlin has ever seen him -- which is to say, his soft yet rough voice is just a little louder than usual. But Merlin can smell the beer on his breath and he knows that Val’s been drinking a bit to make him so.

"Oh, hi, Val," Merlin greets. He blinks, remembering his message, and turns to Arthur. "Ran into Val this afternoon on the street. He says hello and that he’ll probably see you tonight."

"Yes, thank you, Merlin," Arthur says, voice dripping with sarcasm. "We already spoke this evening but, gee, thank you for being so considerate to pass it along."

Merlin bristles at that. Just because Arthur was being a big prat over the kissing thing didn’t mean he had to be about _everything_ \-- oh, wait, yes it did because this was _Arthur Pendragon_ here. "Yes, well," Merlin snaps at him, "I would’ve remembered if you hadn’t been making fun of my work clothes, or my smell, or--"

"Boys!" Val says again, ignoring their little spat, "I just came over here to say I’m glad to see you two have worked it out."

"Worked _what_ out?" Arthur asks grumpily, trying to shrug Val’s hand off his shoulder. "Believe me, nothing is worked out."

"Of course it is, I saw you," Val says, his hand gripping harder, refusing to be moved. However, he does let go of Merlin, though he points his finger in Merlin’s face. "You have been a point of contention between us for a year, mate, so I’m glad you finally got your act together."

" _Me_?" Merlin exclaims. "How the bloody hell have _I_ \--"

"By existing," Val answers solemnly. "For months and months it was all, ‘Merlin this’ and ‘Merlin that’. It is all I ever heard from this chap here," he says, jostling Arthur around in his strong grip. "Used to drive me mad, all I heard about you. No offense and all."

"None taken," Merlin says, feeling absolutely confused. Merlin’s eyes are wide and he looks at Arthur, though Arthur is glaring at Val and refusing to look back at Merlin.

Arthur hisses, " _Shut up_ , Val. You’re not helping."

"It’s all worked out, right?" Val says, shrugging. "What does it matter if he knows? He probably does, right, Merlin?"

"I can honestly say that I don’t," Merlin answers slowly. "Tell me more."

Arthur groans unhappily. "Val, I swear, if you say a word--"

"The worst was when," Val starts, completely ignoring Arthur, "you two had that big row last spring. Didn’t speak to each other for weeks? Arthur drove everyone mad with his damn--" Val waves his hand around, trying to find the right word. "Languishing."

"I did _not_ languish!"

Merlin looks at Arthur, astonished. "You _languished_ over me?"

"No!"

"Yes," Val says solemnly. "It was so easy to tell when you two where on the rights again because he wasn’t a prat anymore."

Merlin snorts, "He’s always a prat."

"Yes, true," Val says, eyes full of mirth, "but less of one."

"Oi!" Arthur says, scowling. "If you’re done now--"

"Not at all," Val answers. To Merlin he says, "And then there was the time you turned down his advances."

"He was drunk!" Merlin protests. "I didn’t know he _liked_ me."

"Oh, god," Arthur says. He closes his eyes and leans his head against the table top, and Merlin almost expects him to start banging his head against it. Thankfully, he does not.

"Yes, that’s what I mentioned to him too," Val says. "He should’ve used _words_ but sometimes he’s not that good with that."

"You!" Arthur says, still not lifting his head or opening his eyes, but raising a declaring finger into the air, "are a snake in the grass. There is nothing valiant about you, you betraying sodding bastard. We’re no longer mates. How’s that for using words?"

Merlin used to feel quite the same way about Val, to be honest, but he’s rather fond of the guy now.

"Speaking of words, Merlin," Val says, a glint in his eyes, "I hear you used some very strong ones yourself?"

Merlin instantly changes his mind about Val. Sodding betraying bastard indeed.

Arthur finally lifts his head, and he smirks at Merlin. "Yes, he sure did. What was that about?"

Merlin blanches and shrugs helplessly. "I was drunk?" he suggests. Which was very true.

But when he sees the crestfallen look on Arthur’s face, Merlin can’t help but sigh. "But, I suppose, you know, the drink just … amplified my feelings."

"You _do_ love me," Arthur says, reenergised. "I _knew_ it!"

"Shut up!" Merlin says, feeling his face turn bright red with embarrassment. "It’s not how I -- that’s just ridiculous!"

"It is how you feel!" Arthur says triumphantly. "It’s because I’m so bloody brilliant."

"You’re a prat!" Merlin argues.

"And _brilliant_ ," Arthur says, smirking.

Val claps his hand heartily on Arthur’s shoulder three times. "Mate, we talked about this," his voice low, though Merlin could easily hear it. "You are not five years old, and you are not pulling on his pigtails."

Merlin barks out laughter, unable to contain it. "Is that what this has all been," Merlin asks, amused. "Here I thought we were adults, sorry I missed all your childish signals."

"Oh, shut up," Arthur snaps at him, but it’s without any real heat. "It’s not as if you’ve been much better yourself. You had to get drunk before you said anything!"

"You had to drink before you did anything either!"

"You did it first!"

Merlin rolls his eyes but his smile slips into something more affectionate. "That’s true," Merlin says. "And I kind of am now too, aren't I?"

Arthur doesn't say anything, but nods, almost eagerly. As if he's waiting for Merlin.

Merlin gives an exaggerated sigh. "Fine, I’ll admit it," he says, grinning and happy, finally feeling like it would be okay to say something. "I _do_ like you. And, yeah," he says, shrugging a bit shyly, "I want you."

"Oooo-kay," Val says, standing up from where he was leaning against the booth. He lets go of their shoulders. "This is definitely my cue to leave." He winks down at them, and he’s gone as quick as he arrived.

Merlin looks at Arthur, suddenly unsure what to do or say now that their buffer was gone. Which was a bit ridiculous because they really need to know how to do this on their own.

"So… " he says slowly, head ducked down but glancing up at Arthur through his lashes. "What--"

"Oh, for god’s sake," Arthur says, rolling his eyes. He slides right next to Merlin again, hand reaching out and settling firmly on the back of Merlin’s neck. He pulls Merlin’s head forward, meeting him half way, and they kiss, deep and desperate and perfect.

Merlin finally pulls away, catching his breath as he rests his forehead against Arthur’s. He finds that his fingers have a tight hold on Arthur’s shirt. He lets go and smooths the material down, and Arthur sighs, hot breath hitting Merlin’s cheek.

"You still haven’t said it," Merlin says, voice quiet, just for the two of them. "I'm the one doing all the work here."

"I just kissed you!"

"I kissed you first! Stop being an arse and just tell me."

"Tell you what?"

"You know. It."

"I have no idea--"

Merlin sighs and starts to pull away, but Arthur’s hands hold onto him more firmly. "Okay, okay," Arthur says, but he sounds amused rather than coerced into it. He kisses the tip of Merlin’s nose. "I like you too."

Merlin smiles, reassured and trusting in Arthur’s words, even if he was being an arse who thinks he's being funny when he's clearly not. He's going to have to learn to read that better. Still, Merlin says happily, "Good. And tomorrow?"

Arthur pulls away, looking at him, confident. "We’ll still be us, just an _improved_ us."

Merlin laughs, a little shaky; it's an odd feeling, a flutter in his stomach, the way things had flipped within seconds. Or maybe it's always been there. But he truly believes what Arthur is saying, in how he says it. They’ll make it work. He says, agreeably, "I like the sound of that."

"Me too."

"Especially since I want you."

"Me too," Arthur agrees again, and he pulls Merlin close, burying his face into Merlin’s neck. Arthur breathes in deeply. "I love the smell of you."

Merlin laughs. "You know, I figured that out earlier tonight, actually."

"Morgana and Gwen are wenches," Arthur says casually. "Complete and utter wenches who did that on purpose to drive me crazy."

"Did it work?"

"Absolutely."

"We need to get them the best thank-you present ever," Merlin suggests. He shudders a bit when Arthur licks at his neck.

"Later, let’s talk about them much, much later," Arthur mutters. Merlin is about to agree but instead he gasps when Arthur’s mouth starts to suck gently.

Merlin tilts his head back, giving Arthur better access to explore sensitive skin as he cards fingers through the hair at the back of Arthur’s neck. He thinks about what they must look like, cuddled up in a booth, hands all over each other. Merlin finds he doesn't care -- hell, by the sounds of it, most of their friends will probably be congratulating them. But Arthur is his now and he isn’t about to be shy about it.

So he says again, "I want you."

"I did hear you the first time," Arthur says, amused. He nips at Merlin’s earlobe. "But, please, feel free to tell me as many time as you want."

"I mean _right now_."

Arthur pulls away and Merlin can see the desire in his eyes. Arthur asks, suddenly very serious, "Should we go?"

Merlin shakes his head. "No. Morgana and Gwen--"

"Will understand, since this was their bloody goal for the evening," Arthur says. "And we said we weren’t going to talk about them right now."

"We should stay," Merlin says.

Arthur’s shoulders slump. He says grumpily, "Then you shouldn't’ve have suggested--"

"The rest room?"

Arthur blinks at him twice, then grabs his hand, practically pulling him out of the booth. Merlin laughs and happily follows. He doesn’t stop beaming when Arthur keeps his grip on Merlin’s hand, and they make their way through the crowd towards the back of the room where the loos are located.

"Oh, god," Merlin says as he sees the door with the men’s sign on it. "We’re going to get busted in there, aren’t we? Someone will walk in and see us or hear us and then--"

"You were the one who suggested it!"

"I know, I know," Merlin grumbles. "I just don't want it to be ruined--"

"Trust me, I have a plan," Arthur says, though Merlin is convinced he came up with it right on the spot. Arthur detours just slightly, and while Merlin is confused, he follows along.

Arthur stops at a group of people, and claps a hand on Val’s shoulder. Val turns around, glances down at their clasped hands, and smirks knowingly at them.

"Boys," Val greets them again.

Arthur promptly says, "We need your help."

"What for?"

Merlin says, confused, "Good question." Merlin looks between Arthur and Val, and can not comprehend at all what Arthur is thinking. He teases, his nose scrunched up, "Don’t you think it’s a bit early for a threesome?"

"What?" Val blurts, suddenly looking a bit horrified. "Look, I was trying to help, but a man has to draw a line--"

"Stop being idiots, the both of you," Arthur says with a roll of his eyes. "It’s not that. Just -- follow me, will you?"

Thankfully, Val is a good sport about it and he dutifully follows Arthur. Arthur grabs his shoulder and pushes Val up against the wall next to the men’s room door.

Pointing a finger in his face, Arthur says, "You are to remain here. You are not to let anyone into this room. At all. For any reason whatsoever."

Merlin ducks his head and tries to hide his smile at Arthur’s desperate insistence, his commanding nature. Val just blinks at Arthur and asks, dumbfounded, "It’s the loo! How am I supposed to do that?"

"Say there's a bit of emergency maintenance going on," Merlin suggests from his position right behind Arthur. "If they ask, say you're a bouncer or something."

Arthur casts a smile over his shoulder. "That would work, wouldn’t it?"

"He’s as big as a tree trunk," Merlin says, nodding.

"He is," Arthur agrees.

"I am not!"

Merlin adds, "And his fists look like large Christmas hams."

"By god, you’re right," Arthur says, amusement in his voice.

Val looks at them, deadpans, "You’re not convincing me to help you, here."

"Oh, come on, Val," Merlin says. He sidles up to Arthur, hooking his chin over Arthur’s shoulder, sliding his hands around to rest on Arthur’s stomach. His chest is pressed up against Arthur's back and he can feel a shiver run through Arthur’s body. Merlin smiles sweetly at their tall mate. "If you don’t help, then I’m just going to have to take my leave of both of you." He reaches up and puts his fingers on Arthur’s jaw, shaking Arthur’s head gently, as if an old grandma greeting a child. He adds in a sappy voice, "And then you’ll have to deal with him. Can you even imagine? I’m quite certain he’ll drive you mad within minutes--"

"I’ll do it," Val says flatly.

Merlin laughs and Arthur huffs, halfway between amused and annoyed. But he leans into Merlin’s body and Merlin doesn’t think there’ll be any problem.

"Good," Arthur says. He instructs, "And if any actual employee says something to you, just tell them that Morgana told you to do it. It’ll be fine."

Val’s eyes search the crowd and quickly stop. He smiles. "She’s over there looking with a smirk on her face."

Merlin says, face scrunched up, "She’s watching?"

Val answers with a grin, "Yep."

"God," Arthur mutters, "there’s something seriously disturbed with that woman."

Merlin nips at his ear. "If you don’t want to--"

"Don’t be ridiculous," Arthur says instantly, and he’s pulling them towards the door.

"Ten minutes," Val says.

Arthur looks at him, incredulous, " _What_?"

"I won’t be able to keep people out for very long," Val says. "Plus, after a year of foreplay, it really shouldn’t take you too long."

Merlin and Arthur pause for a moment. "Good point," they say in unison. Merlin barks out laughter and Arthur glances at him fondly.

Val rolls his eyes, and shoves his hand into his back pocket. He pulls out two foil wrappers.

"Val!" Arthur hisses, but he grabs the condoms from his friend’s hand.

"Be safe, kids," Val says, smirking. "Plus, it’ll be less messy. Everyone’ll know anyway but I’m sure you don’t want to walk around with Merlin’s spunk on your trousers."

"Val!" Arthur hisses again, though Merlin laughs, a bit embarrassed, and pushes Arthur to the door. They go in, and Merlin glances over his shoulder; as the door closes, he sees Val take a spot right in front of it.

Merlin and Arthur both make the pretence of washing their hands as the one other bloke in there finishes at the urinal, washes his hands, and goes. As soon as the room is empty other than them, Merlin and Arthur are clinging together, mouths crushing together in desperate, hot kisses.

"In there," Arthur growls, practically pushing Merlin into one of the stalls.

"Val--"

"Might decide to chase some skirt," Arthur says, locking the door behind him and pushing Merlin up against the partition, his head hitting it with a light thud.

"Right," Merlin agrees. And then there’s no more talking as hands scrabble at each other, pulling each other as close together as possible.

Arthur presses his mouth hard against Merlin’s and Merlin opens up, Arthur’s tongue delving in. Merlin sucks on it, eliciting a deep moan from Arthur, and he makes the conscious decision that he wants to hear that as much as possible.

His hands move down and he fumbles with Arthur’s belt buckle, trying to undo it as quickly as possible while keeping up with the wondrous assault of Arthur’s mouth against his. It’s all too much, the need to breathe and the dizzying feeling that’s fogging up his head. He pulls away, and with a strength that surprises Arthur, he pushes on Arthur’s chest until he backs up against the opposite wall.

"Hold on," he says lowly, ducking his head out of the way when Arthur tries to capture him in a kiss again. "We only have a few minutes. We can snog anytime." But he leans forward and presses a quick kiss against Arthur’s lips, a promise for later.

He gets Arthur’s belt undone, flicks at the button of his trousers and unzips them. He palms Arthur through his boxers and Arthur groans, leaning his head back against the wall. Merlin grins and nips lightly at the underside of his jaw, and then sinks down to his knees.

He pulls Arthur’s trousers and boxers down, freeing Arthur’s hard cock. Merlin leans forward and presses a kiss against Arthur’s hip. He lightly trails his fingers over Arthur’s shaft and smiles as Arthur’s cock twitches with interest.

Above him, Arthur is panting. Merlin looks up and meets his gaze, and it’s hot and hungry. Merlin licks his lips and swallows, mouth suddenly feeling dry, and Arthur bites at his bottom lip. His hips jerk slightly, cock sliding through the light grip Merlin has on it.

Merlin tightens his hold and gives a confident stroke and Arthur groans. He wants to take Arthur in, feel hot bare skin rub against his tongue, but Merlin's heard enough of Arthur's rants on safe sex, and there will be time enough to talk that all out later. So, for now, Merlin just says, voice low, "Condom." Arthur nods eagerly and hands one to Merlin. He quickly rips open the packages and rolls it over Arthur’s cock.

It's a rush to his head, the moment he takes Arthur into his mouth. Arthur's cock is full and heavy, and Merlin remembers to breathe as he takes it in as much as he can, wrapping one of his hands around the base and giving short pumps. One of Arthur's hands is on Merlin's hand, finger's curled with locks of hair clenched between, but he doesn't tug or pull or push and lets Merlin set his own pace.

It's like a race, Merlin thinks, to the finish line. They don't have much time but he mostly just wants to get Arthur off, give him that pleasure, like he's imagined far more than once over the past year. It's fast and messy, not nearly close to the the best blow job in the world, but Arthur certainly isn't complaining. Above him, Merlin can hear Arthur's shallow breaths, moans escaping the more Merlin laves his tongue or slips his mouth up and down.

It's Arthur's noises, and the sense of thrill at possibly being caught, and the feel of Arthur's cock finally in his mouth that has Merlin so turned on, that his own erection straining against the front of his trousers. Merlin's free hand drops down, the heel of it pressing against it, and he groans around Arthur's cock. He hears Arthur gasp, and his fingers tighten, and his hips push forward slightly. Merlin can tell Arthur's trying to hold back a little, not to gag him, but his hips move in rythmic short bursts within Merlin's mouth.

Merlin works with it, moaning more and moving faster. It takes no time at all before Arthur's other hand is brushing against Merlin's cheek, a warning gasp, "God, I'm gonna--" and Merlin isn't worried, just pushes his mouth all the way down, feeling Arthur's body tense and his cock twitch was he comes into the condom. Merlin's head continues to bob up and down, milking the orgasm from Arthur, until Arthur tugs on Merlin's hair, and whispers in a low, husky voice, "Merlin, up." Merlin happily follows, though he's feeling lightheaded and dizzy, unable to focus, his own want and desire coiled up in him, ready to spring.

Arthur kisses Merlin hard, not even bothering to pull up his own trousers when his hands start to work getting Merlin's down. He pushes Merlin up against the other stall wall, his hand slipping down into Merlin's pants. With skin against skin, Merlin's eyes roll up and his head hits the flimsy metal wall. "Fuck," he groans.

Merlin pushes his own trousers and pants down, freeing his cock, but Arthur's hand keeps jerking him. Arthur's mouth attaches to Merlin's neck, biting and sucking hard as his hand keeps moving. Merlin's hands grip at Arthur's shoulders, feeling as if his knees are going to give out and needing to be held up. Merlin groans when Arthur swipes his thumb over the head of it, wet with precome.

A shudder ran throughout Merlin's entire body. "We should -- with the --" He gasps when Arthur's thumb swipes again and Merlin breathes, "Mess."

Arthur doesn't answer right away but instead kisses Merlin, open-mouthed and a bit sloppy. Merlin groans unhappily when Arthur's hand drops away from his cock but Arthur pulls away with a leer on his face. "Turn around," he says, hand on Merlin's hip and urging him. Merlin is pliant and does so, and he gasps when Arthur fits himself against his back, pressing his bare hips against Merlin's. Arthur's soft now, condom still on, but Merlin whimpers when Arthur's cock settles in the cleft of his bottocks and Merlin grinds back against him.

"Later, I promise," Arthur says into Merlin's ear. But, for now, his arm reaches around and takes Merlin's cock into his hand again. Merlin groans and leans back, head settling against Arthur's shoulder.

"God, how I wanted this," Arthur whispers into his ear, and Merlin shivers, "the things I've imagined--"

Merlin practically sobs as Arthur's hand stops but just squeezes his cock.

"The things I'm going to do to you--"

"Arthur, _please_ \--" Merlin whimpers, his hips jerking forward, trying to get Arthur's hand to move again. Arthur just chuckles lowly in his ear, and it's no surprise he's being an utter bastard about this, but then he starts jerking Merlin off again and it's like a wave crashes over him, warm and wonderful and chaotic.

Merlin doesn't know what to do with his hands; they're balled in fists at his side, but he reaches out blindly in front of him, resting on the stall wall in front of him. But when Arthur's hand moves faster, and Merlin wants -- needs -- to get better leverage to push himself into the tunnel of Arthur's fingers, Merlin's hands slide up and grip the top of the partition. He's pulled away from Arthur's body now, but able to thrust his hips faster, matching Arthur's pace.

Arthur's rests his head between Merlin's shoulder blades, and his other hand works under Merlin's shirt, fingers rubbing over a couple knots at the bottom of his spine.

Merlin can feel it building up in him, and just seconds before, he says, "God, I'm gonna--" Arthur pushes him forward, until he's leaning forward and his cheek is against the cool metal, and he gasps as he comes all over the stall wall and Arthur's hand.

Merlin remains right where he is, for a minute, gasping deeply and trying to catch his breath. The orgasmic glow thrums through his body, and when it finally starts to fade, he can focus a little bit. "Holy fuck," he says, reaching down to pull up his trousers. It's only then he's conscious and realises that Arthur isn't holding his cock or that his body isn't pressed up against his any more.

Merlin glances over his shoulder and sees Arthur leaning up against the other wall, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. His trousers are still at his ankles, and his come-covered hand is held out to the side. He raises an eyebrow. "A little help here, yeah?"

Merlin grins, but leans in, kissing Arthur but removing the condom from his cock, Arthur giving a content little sigh against Merlin's lips. Merlin disposes of it, then pulls up his trousers, tucking him in and doing them up, buckling the belt. Arthur cups his cheek with his clean hand and gives him a quick and dirty thank-you kiss.

"Come on," Merlin says, opening the stall door. "I have a feeling our ten minutes are probably up." He's thankful, though, that when they go to wash their hands in the sink that there doesn't seem to be anyone else in there.

Merlin looks in the mirror and groans. "Shit, look at me," he says. His lips are swollen red, there's a love-bite forming on his neck, and his hair is sticking up in all directions. There's not much he can do about some of that, but he runs a wet hand through his hair, trying to get it to lay flat.

"Believe me, I am," Arthur says, and Merlin meets his eyes in the mirror. Arthur's looking at him different now, open lust and affection, like any barrier that might've been there for the past year has been completely stripped away.

Merlin's breath hitches in his throat and it's harder to breathe than it had been minutes ago in the throes of lust. Because, now, it finally feels like he can finally tell what Arthur really thinks of him.

Merlin can't stop the beaming smile that crosses his face, no matter how he tries. Not even when Arthur leans in and gives him a soft and surprisingly tender kiss.

 

***

 

When they leave the bathroom, all cleaned up and put together the best they could, considering they’d just got each other off in the men’s restroom, Merlin cannot keep the smile from his face.

They pass by Val, who's still at the entrance, without looking at him but both muttering "Thanks," under their breath. Merlin can hear him give a hearty laugh, and when he glances over his shoulder, Val’s already disappeared back into the crowd and he sees three men heading into the restroom.

Arthur takes Merlin’s hand in his, and that alone makes Merlin warm up more than being jerked off. (Well, almost.) Merlin laces his fingers with Arthur’s and happily follows along, glad to see they were heading straight to the bar.

"We’re getting drinks," Arthur says.

"I thought we weren’t supposed to," Merlin says, though he isn’t exactly protesting. He keeps close to Arthur as they make their way though the crowd, speaking close to Arthur’s ear.

Arthur shrugs. "We’ve completed the deal. We worked things out."

"Fuck, did we ever," Merlin agrees, and Arthur chuckles.

Arthur lets go of Merlin long enough to go up to the bar and get them each a pint. Returning to Merlin’s side, he hands one to Merlin, and then holds his up. "To us," Arthur says, a smirk on his face.

Merlin shakes his head but beams at Arthur. "To us," he echoes, and they clink their drinks together.

From behind them, there’s a loud, "Hear, hear!"

Merlin turns around and laughs, unsurprised to find Morgana and Gwen standing behind them. Morgana’s pale cheeks are flushed with pink spots and Gwen’s eyes look a bit more glazed over than usual; Merlin can tell they’ve taken advantage of the fact they weren't under a drink restriction. They are, Merlin will admit, adorably sweet with the way Morgana’s arms drape around Gwen’s shoulders and Gwen’s hands reach up to rest lightly on them, and their heads lean against each other.

The first thing Arthur does is point an accusatory finger at them. "Don’t even start," he growls, but it’s without any real heat.

Morgana smirks at him, though she's eying Merlin's neck knowingly. "We didn’t say anything."

"Especially," Gwen adds, "not about how you two just had sex in the restroom."

Merlin is quite certain that his own cheeks are pink from the orgasm he had just minutes before, but at Gwen’s words, he feels them flare even hotter. "Oh, god," he groans. "They’ll never let us live this down."

"Never ever," Arthur says mournfully. But then he grins and shrugs. "Then again, neither would I, if I were in their place."

Merlin reaches out and rests his hand on the small of Arthur’s back and he grins back. "That’s because you’re a prat. They aren’t. Well, they didn’t used to be but I’m seriously reconsidering that."

"Oi!’ Morgana protests. "You should be thanking us for this!"

Gwen nods. "Yes, without our devious plan, you both would still be pining."

"First, there was _no_ pining," Arthur says. They all look at him, even Merlin, with unbelieving looks. Arthur ignores them and continues, "And you weren’t at all devious."

"Well, I suppose we weren’t, but it worked, right?" Morgana says.

"You know, we could’ve worked this out on our own," Merlin says and takes a sip of his beer.

Morgana and Gwen laugh as if it’s the funniest thing they ever heard.

"What?" Arthur asks, dismayed. His arm comes to settle around Merlin’s waist protectively. "We certainly would have!"

Morgana shakes her head, amused. "You're both stubborn and thick in the head. You never would’ve if--"

Gwen puts her hands up in the air. "Does this really matter?"

"Yes!" the other three cry out.

Gwen shakes her head, amused. "Well, let’s argue about this later." She twists her head a little, placing a kiss on Morgana’s cheek. "Why don’t we go dance instead?"

"Yes," Morgana agrees, beaming at her. "Perfect idea." She gives the boys a stern look. "And both of you are too."

"Oh, no," Merlin says, putting up a halting hand, the one that isn’t curled around his beer for dear life. "I don’t dance."

"Oh, come on, it’s my birthday," Morgana says in her no-nonsense tone. "You have to."

"No, no," Merlin says again. He is going to be quite firm about this, because it’s where he draws the line. "Forget it. I’m not--"

"Oh, come on, Merlin," Arthur says. His voice is low as he leans in close to Merlin’s ear. "I’ll dance with you. Close and sexy and grinding against--"

Merlin groans, knowing that he’ll give in. He glares at Gwen and Morgana as they beam at him, and point a finger at them. "You realise you’ve created a couple of monsters, right?"

Morgana lets go of Gwen and claps gleefully, eyes shining with amusement. "Oh, this is going to be so much fun. It’ll be so easy to play them off each other." She grabs Gwen’s hand and starts to lead her to the entrance to the dance floor. "Come on, boys!"

Merlin follows, and Arthur is behind him, hands on Merlin’s hips as if making sure he didn’t run away. Merlin groans grumpily. "This is going to be horrible."

"I’ve got you," Arthur promises. "It’ll be fine."

And when they’re down on the dance floor, surrounded by other young, heated bodies bouncing to the back beat of some pop song, Merlin agrees that it is indeed fine. More than, even. Arthur has his hands around Merlin’s waist, and Merlin’s arms are around Arthur’s neck, and their bodies are flush up against each other. Arthur leads them, their bodies swaying in time with the music.

At first, their gazes are locked on each other, smiles wide across their faces, and then they’re even closer, kissing underneath the neon lights and completely oblivious to anyone else but each other.

 

***

 

 _Even though Arthur and Merlin try to avoid the subject when with their friends, Morgana and Gwen and even Val like to bring up the start of their relationship. They never ever leave it be, each trying to take the credit, to the point of heated debates. But they all agree with one thing -- they're all grateful it happened sooner rather than later (even if it could've been sooner than sooner if they weren't such boys about it, Morgana likes to point out.) And Arthur and Merlin will counter that it doesn't matter when or how it happened, but that it did happen, and that'll generally end any debate or discussion on a positive note._

 _But when Merlin thinks back to that night, he secretly agrees that it was helped along by Morgana and Gwen, and even Val, and he remembers it fondly. And when they're alone, just the two of them, and Merlin brings it up, he knows by the smile on Arthur's face that he does too._

 

~end

**Author's Note:**

> This gift request was a lot of fun to write! It included the following from okydoky's request: a modern AU, university era Merlin/Arthur, Merlin/Arthur when the girls are involved as well, drunk scenes in bars and clubs, club!sex, set in London, blow-jobs, kissing, and the following prompts: - cups of tea - tequila - bathrooms.
> 
> I did what I could, and I hope you enjoyed, okydoky! :)


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